Falling into the Capital's Radiance - Chapter 2

This was half true, half false.

He was simply too good-looking.

Shen Jingni felt a little tempted.

Moreover, this man carried a clean and refreshing scent, like specially blended woody incense-cool and distant, making her a little… dazed by desire.

Zhao Zonglan’s eyes darkened. Suddenly, his palm pressed against her waist, trapping her in his arms.

He leaned back lazily on the sofa, amusement glimmering in his eyes. He raised a hand to smoke, exhaled a thin stream, his Adam’s apple moving slightly as he let out a cold, mocking laugh, “Heh.”

That laugh was downright condescending.

Just a powerless scion of the Zhao family-what was he acting so arrogant for!

Shen Jingni had never doubted her own charm.

With her innate beauty, she’d had a constant stream of admirers since childhood.

When had she ever endured such ridicule?

The little princess, spoiled since birth, was exceedingly proud.

“Don’t be so cold, big brother,” she pouted pitifully on purpose, her slender index finger poking the man’s chest. Even through the shirt, she could feel the firmness of his muscles.

It would definitely feel nice to touch him with the shirt off.

But the next second, that mischievous hand was pinned in place, her wrist squeezed painfully.

Shen Jingni winced, lunged forward, and then tilted her head up to press her lips hard against his Adam’s apple.

A low, husky gasp slipped from the man’s throat.

It was deadly sexy.

Her chin was gripped again, this time his palm exerting force, veins standing out slightly on the back of his hand, the silver ring on his finger glinting coldly.

Tears welled in Shen Jingni’s eyes from the pain, and she had no choice but to let go.

A shadow settled in Zhao Zonglan’s gaze. His fingers pressed into her fair cheek, his voice deep and dangerous: “You’re quite bold.”

“Big brother is so fierce,” she murmured softly in protest, her words slurred from having her chin pinched. Those beautiful, doe-like eyes shimmered with grievance, making her look heartbreakingly pitiful.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, his gaze landing on the white jade hairpin in her hair. The craftsmanship was exquisite, clearly not some common trinket.

The next second, the white jade hairpin was pulled out from Shen Jingni’s hair by the man.

Her inky hair cascaded down, the strands soft and lustrous, glowing like precious satin. A few locks brushed her cheek, setting off her snow-white skin to perfection.

She furrowed her brows, a touch of displeasure, “My hairpin.”

Zhao Zonglan said nothing, just held the pin, idly rubbing the carved patterns, his eyes fixed on her.

Shen Jingni had no idea why this man suddenly snatched her hairpin.

Really strange.

But the way he looked at her seemed even stranger.

Deep and placid, as if he were seeing someone from the past.

Could it be he was missing his first love, his white moonlight, through her?

How melodramatic.

She didn’t want to be anyone’s stand-in, not even for an act.

Shen Jingni’s mind cleared a bit, and she felt a sudden urge to withdraw. She shifted, about to get up.

But the man’s hand fastened around the back of her neck.

The distance between them shrank again.

Her lashes trembled nervously, both hands braced against his shirt.

The woody incense in the air thickened, tinged now with musk; even the air felt humid and hot.

His grip was forceful and domineering, his gaze unreadable, breaths hot and heavy as they brushed her ear, the tips flushing red as blood.

In the spacious lounge, the sultry atmosphere kept rising.

Suddenly, the phone on the table rang, again and again, jarringly intrusive.

Staring at the man’s strikingly handsome face so close to hers, Shen Jingni reminded him nervously, “Mr. Zhao, your phone.”

Clarity returned to Zhao Zonglan’s eyes.

He was back to his proud, unapproachable self-as if he had never once fallen into this web of ambiguity.
He got up to answer the phone.

Shen Jingni immediately moved to the other side of the sofa, her cheeks still flushed, trying to calm herself down.

At that moment, her phone rang as well.

Song Yu sent several messages in quick succession.

“The latest news I got is that Zhao Siyuan didn’t go to Wangjing Tower due to health issues, and the distinguished guest Wangjing Tower is hosting today isn’t him at all.”

Shen Jingni’s eyelids twitched suddenly.

Her mind went blank.

She gripped her phone, sneaking a glance at the man standing not far away, talking on the phone.

He’s not Zhao Siyuan?!

Then who is he?

But her instincts told her this man was not someone to mess with.

Thinking of this, she didn’t hesitate-she got up and ran.

She even closed the door behind her.

The door to the lounge closed softly, and that slender figure disappeared from sight.

Zhao Zonglan listened to the call with cold eyes.

The person on the other end spoke respectfully and anxiously, asking if he should stop her.

He tossed his phone onto the table, lit a cigarette unhurriedly, and caught sight of the white jade hairpin in the corner of the sofa, his lips curling coldly.

“No need.”

“Just a foolish little fox.”

–

When Zhao Siyuan arrived at Wangjing Tower, the luxurious lounge was already filled with people kneeling.

They were there to beg forgiveness.

Lu Wengao, the manager, kept his head down, not daring to look at Zhao Zonglan sitting on the sofa.

Even though it was the cold winter season, sweat beaded on his forehead as he spoke nervously, “Mr. Zhao, it was our negligence that disturbed your peace. All involved will be punished according to the rules. We beg your forgiveness.”

Director Yuan had already instructed him to be extra careful. This master was always ruthless and unpredictable-if he was displeased, their lives might not be safe.

Zhao Zonglan leaned back against the sofa, smoking, his handsome face indifferent. “The Rong Family really does raise a bunch of useless people.”

The owner behind Wangjing Tower was the Rong Family’s heir, Rong Heng.

The Rong Family’s ancestors were true nobility, having been rooted in Jing City for centuries, with deep influence.

Hearing this, Lu Wengao bowed his head even lower, his trembling body nearly collapsing to the floor.

He dared not say anything, only repeating his pleas for mercy: “Mr. Zhao, we will strengthen our security in the future, please…”

“Get out.”

Zhao Zonglan was getting annoyed.

He never expected anything pleasant from useless people.

Lu Wengao breathed a sigh of relief as if granted amnesty, quickly leading his people away.

Only then did Zhao Siyuan approach.

Though still ill and weak, he bowed respectfully and greeted, “Uncle.”

Zhao Zonglan glanced at him, raising the hand holding the cigarette slightly.

Chang An understood and handed the tablet to Zhao Siyuan.

The screen was playing tonight’s corridor surveillance footage.

Zhao Zonglan toyed with the white jade hairpin in his hand, asking carelessly, “Did she come looking for you?”

She?

Zhao Siyuan’s gaze fell on the tablet. The young woman in the video wore a simple qipao, no makeup, yet her looks and figure were outstanding. Every gesture and smile was breathtakingly beautiful.

Even Zhao Siyuan, who had seen countless beauties, was momentarily stunned.

But just as he was dazed, an ashtray suddenly smashed toward his head.

With a loud “bang,” the heavy ashtray rolled off his head and shattered on the floor, stained with fresh blood.

Zhao Zonglan lifted his eyelids, his voice chilling, “Answer.”